The Ripple in the Water
by chesss
Summary: Danny had an accident. He's in a coma. Tom is devastated: loosing his best friend would mean the end of his own life. But Danny's last words are still clear to him: make music, no matter what. Even if I'm gone... So the guys do as he wished: they hire someone else. A girl. Tom hates her, she won't take Danny's place, never! But what if she was there for another reason?
1. Chapter 1

Tom's POV

I rub my hands over my eyes, looking down at my feet. All I can see his the vinyl floor and the wheels of your hospital bed. I can hear the ringing of the machines. Those things scares me to death, there are just too many around you and the sound they make... too high pitched, too present. They remind me of the noise you're not making. Laying here under those hospital bed sheets, so far away from your own bed in our house. I trail my eyes onto the floor and find the wires collecting the machines to the wall. You're hanging on to me by a wire. I hate those devices, you shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have called you that night, you shouldn't have pick up whilst driving...

I hear a loud ringing and I lift my eyes hastily. It's nothing. As usual, there is nothing new. Danny... just... just wake up... Your heart is beating unsteadily, going from 118 to 130 all the time. So much faster than mine but, because you're in a coma, they say it's normal. I don't even want to hear that word anymore. Nothing is normal since I heard you scream that night. The silence that followed took away any sense to the word normal. My cellphone vibrates in my pocket. It's a text message from Dougie.

_Where are you mate? The auditions are starting. _

I reply: _I don't want to be there for that shit._

_Come on. We need you._

_I'm at the hospital. Danny needs me more than you right now._

I hear the beeping sound again and your heart rate drops down to 102. My own heart seems to skip a beat. At first, I wanted your heart to slow down, coming closer to my own pace. I thought that, when it was slowing down, you were coming closer to waking up... But they told me that when your heart slows down like that, it's a sign that you're closer to death. So beat... heart... just beat. Fast. Run... I don't want you to die, Danny...

I sigh, moving from the chair I woke up in to the one next to your head. I take your hand, it's lifeless, and cold. Move... just move... I look at your fingers and... nothing. I squeeze them, resting my head on the drab covers, waiting. The nurse come and go. Nothing. My pocket vibrate again. This time it's Harry.

_That guy is awesome... You would like him._

I look at the little screen, feeling the anger rise in me. How can he say that! I will never like someone that will sing with me, stay next to me on stage, pretending to be you... Danny, just move...

_This one is pretty good too. The others were shit._

I press the buttons: _I don't care._

_You have a say in this, Tom. Just come now, we'll go back to see Dan later. Alright?_

I don't reply. I don't care. Nothing really matters. I don't want to do this. I don't want to. What did you have to do this? Why did you have to say this to us? Did you knew that you would end up in that place soon? _Make music. No matter what. _But I can't make music without you. We started this together, how do they expect me to go on in McFly without you by my side. I delayed the inevitable for six months but since you... since you don't wake up, I... I can't do this with someone else. I love Harry, I love Dougie, you know that right? But it will never be the same... I lean forward and take your hand again. I see your chest rising but it's the machines. The wires. You were so... Danny, you were so alive... How in the Hell are you laying there, with those crappy things around you... My cellphone moves again. I'm getting exasperated now.

_OMG. We found our guitarist. She's fucking brilliant!_

_Doug... I don't give a flying fuck. Leave me alone._

I throw the cellphone on the other side of the room. My battery drops with the shock of it against the wall. Good. Now, we are alone. I don't need McFly to go on, I need you. You were my friend, you were my rock. And now, I'm drowning. Literally.

But the guys remember your words, they know what the group meant to you and they want to honor you. _Make music. No matter what. _But I can't... I will but I... I will do it for you but... please wake up. I'm not giving up, Danny, you'll be with me on stage again. We will throw away that piece of shit that will take your place and you'll be with us again. Right? I will listen to you if you listen to me. Don't die.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom's POV

I hear them talk from behind the door but I can't seem to be able to go in. This is the day. This is the day everything starts. Again. How am I supposed to accept this girl in our house, act like everything is alright? I sigh. I'm perfectly aware that they don't want this from me. All the guys want, all the label, Fletch and all everyone wants it's just for us to reunite and make music. Just play shows, make a tour like it was planned last autumn. Be a foursome again. But it's too much to ask. A foursome with a man... sleeping? With a girl? Really not sure about that. But since I wasn't there, they decided without me. I guess I wouldn't have pick anyone anyway so... I put my hand on the doorhandle. Oh shit, I don't want to open that door...

-Just act normal, I hear Fletch say. Leave the guys in charge during interviews and just... Don't talk about Danny.

When I hear your name, I turn the doorknob and for a split second, they all stare at me: Fletch, Harry and Dougie. And that girl. She gets up hastily, a shy smile on her lips. No... I don't think so. I won't return your smile. I look at the other guys and, then, I can smile a little. To them. Since you had your accident, I smiled, and made music, yeah... I even laughed a couple of times. Feeling ever so guilty about it. Having fun whilst you're laying there? And that... girl... that thing in our house right now... She will be where you should be... There is no way I will feel guilty over her. There is no way I will ever enjoy playing with her. She will even regret trying out to be with us.

-Alex, she says, holding up her hand. Well... Alexis.

I shake it. I don't like it. It's too soft, too smooth. She probably doesn't even play guitar properly... Her finger should be raw or something. I just wish I could throw her out...

-Thanks for having me here, she adds.

I don't like her voice. I don't know why. There is no reason, I guess. I hate her on the basis that she isn't you, can you blame me for that?

-I didn't want you here, I reply, sitting down next to Harry.

-Tom... sighs Dougie.

What? I'm not a liar... what do they want me to say? « Ah... welcome here girl! So happy you accepted to join. We needed you so bad! » Let me say it again: no, I don't think so.

Fletch clears here throat and... she... her... Fuck! That... girl takes a chair next to him. Mad. I'm so mad. Danny, I'm so mad...

Alex's POV

I sit back down and look at my hands on the wooden table. I knew it would be like that, I've seen interviews since it happened, I've read the papers... They were all broken... especially him. But seeing a sad face on a magazine or in a TV screen is way less representative that what it really looks like up close. His despair can nearly be touched, like a big black cushion around him I could press. And I thought I was messed up... This is nothing compared to me.

I look up to the other guys, they smile gently at me. Dougie and Harry were friendly right from the start, which is quite nice, I have to admit. I've try out for loads of band but... I'm a girl so... I always start with a disadvantage. The management say that having a girl is better than having a boy... less chances that the music world will make comparisons between me and... me and... I can't even think of his name. I loved McFly, there were amazing to me... so talented, so funny... Being a part of this is just... a dream come true. I pn;y want to make music. I'm just so sad that it's under those circumstances...

-So... starts Fletch. Not a word to this to anyone. Not before the press conference. Just... practice, alright? It gives you two weeks and then we will start the promotion and stuff... and maybe, if you can work together properly, we'll release a little something to put you on the map, Alex... so you won't be just Danny's replacement.

-That's what she is, Fletch, states Tom.

I open my mouth but I know I won't say anything. He's right. That's what I am. I'm not a part of this, I'm just fingers on strings. I look up to meet his eyes but he's looking at the door. Dougie and Harry look uncomfortable on their chairs. I guess they are... If I was able to, I would just get up and ran away. But I do nothing. Music is all that counts.

-I know... continues Fletch, swallowing. But still... You'll have to sing Alex so... and if Danny doesn't...

I straighten up as he pronounces those words and Tom gets up at once, making his chair fall onto the ground. Fletch stops talking and he blushes a little. That was not a thing to say... I want to make music forever but not over... him... Not because he's not there anymore. I close my eyes at the thought. I didn't even know him and I... No... never say that he might die. He won't, won't he?

I look up to... say his name... think of it... Tom. I look up to Tom and he's glaring at me. I want to look away but I can't, I want to say something but I can't. Same with smiling. All I can do it stare back. He wrinkles his nose, eying me from top to bottom and then just storms out of the room. I sigh, looking at my fingers. That went well...

-Just... give him some time, alright? says Harry, leaning forward to pat my hand.

I softly smile to him. Yeah, I'll give him some time. But he doesn't need time, he needs someone else.

A few days later…

With a sigh of anticipation, I close the bathroom door behind me... It's an urge, I need it, right now... I feel that tightness in my chest, my brain is just screaming... Less than two minutes later, it's done. Relief.

I open the cabinet door and take out the bandages whilst pressing on the cut with my thumb. I take one out with one hand and then rip some toilet paper to whip the blood on my upper thigh. It leaves a tiny red trail on the white diaphanous paper. I toss it in the toilet and then flush it. Never leave evidences behind. I put a patch on the cut, pressing it some more, feeling the tension of my fingers and the burning on my hurt flesh. I shove the box back in the cabinet and rinse my blade. I'm so used to do so I don't even notice my mechanical movements anymore. The metal seems to shine under the flow of water as it let go of the slight red stain that started to dry on the edges.

My hands are shaking a bit. We have our first _real_ rehearsal today. And it's stressing me out. More than I could never tell. The blade is still in my hand, I can feel it burning, like if it's sending little electric shocks on my thigh. I close my eyes. I feel the pain. Feel it... Let it swallow you whole... The other things will go away. The insecurities, the anxieties... everything. Just cut some more... feel more...

It's official, I'm a fucking mess... I crashing broken robot. The actions, the thoughts are always the same. Cut. Feel. Clean. Resist. Fail. Cut again. I can't. I have to stay focus. Even though I know it will help, it need to resist. I'm stronger than my mind. Am I? Sometimes...

We have to split the signing parts today and it will be the first time Tom join Harry, Dougie and I for the practice. Fletch forced him. Maybe he will talk to me... He hasn't open his mouth in my presence since the day we met. Spending countless hours at the hospital or hiding in his room. I hear him at night, playing on the keyboard or guitar in the practice room under my own bed. I'm in the attic since there isn't any room left in the house and there is no way I would ever enter in... in his room. This is forbidden territory and I know it. I look at the blade in my hand and then at my reflection in the mirror.

You're hideous. What do you think you're doing? Messing around in a house where you don't belong? Sitting at places where you shouldn't sit? Playing notes... Not even yours... They are just filling someone else's wishes. They don't want you for you, they want you because they have to. Who would want you? Look at you... Ugly... Ugly, Ugly, UGLY!

-Shut up, I whisper to my mind, pressing the blade in my hand.

I feel the little tension announcing that the cutting side is pressing a bit too hard on the skin of my palm. I don't want it to go through, I want to be able to play properly. I check if the bandage is sticking alright on me, I pull my shorts down and walk out the bathroom, climbing the ladder to my room. I toss the blade in the first drawer of my nightstand. It's not hygienic, I know, but who cares really? I go in the rehearsal room and sit down, taking my guitar in my hands. I clutch my fingers around it. Shit... I'm so nervous... I push on the bandage, I press it roughly. Pain, I can feel it now. Just breath, Alex, just breath... The guys are still downstairs, I think I can hear them talk.

I can only imagine what it was like in here a little over six months ago. I can see Tom and... him walking through the door, Tom rolling his eyes playfully at him because he said something silly and Dougie laughing with his unique laugh, escaping from a hug from Harry. I look at the chair beside mine. It's his. I couldn't sit in it, I just couldn't, I had to take another one. It seems like I can seem them walk in the room, like it must have been a while ago, when they were whole... They are shapes in my mind, it's like I can see through them, hear their distant voices all around me. He's sitting on his chair, laughing, head falling backwards, Harry at his drums set, shouting back something... The room is filled with their voices, like a cloud of warmth surrounding me. Everything is light-colored, translucent as they play, joke and throw guitar picks at each other. I saw them do so on the internet so many times, I know this happened before. They were a unit, a solid group...

Now, the memory is popped, there is nothing left of this here. Just me on my chair, alone in that bright room, old bodies of the happy McFly boys long gone... Silence. And emptiness. What am I doing here?

Tom's POV

When I enter the practice room, I can't help but look at your spot. And there she is. Not exactly at your place, but still, too close to you for my licking. It wouldn't be far enough if she was lost in Alaska anyway, she crossed the line. Too bad for her. Nobody should have cross that line: accepting to play your role. It happens she did. She tries to make eye contact with me but I don't want to. Since when haven't I seen your eyes? Why in the Hell should I even try to befriend her? Sharing the same music doesn't make us relatives. Far from it actually.

Dougie and Harry come in too. I watch her plug her guitar. It's a beautiful electric guitar with little artwork under the bridge. I bet it sounds real good. It's the color of really pale wood and it shines. That girl at least knows how to take care of a guitar apparently. The body is all in curves and, resting a hand on it, she tunes it. She looks nervous. She should be. Her guitar is sure a beauty and that's probably why she seems to play well. But never... never she will be able to cope with your lines. Even I got cramps in my hands at some point, she will just fail. I just can't wait to see that...

-So... starts Dougie, stroking his hair awkwardly. We should work with the lyrics.

-There is nothing to work out of them, I say rapidly. You take Danny's line. Or you take mine.

-I can't. You know I can't, Tom. My voice is not strong enough. We need to split.

-I will take more then.

-You'll ruin your vocal cords, mate, replies Harry. Danny's parts were challenging enough for one person, you can't do it all...

-Then sing, I say, exasperated, sending a resentful glare to Harry.

-That's not funny, he sighs. But Alex could...

-No fucking way! I yell, making them all jump. There is no way that girl will put her voice over his words, you hear me?

-I don't... she starts.

-Shut up!

-Tom! shouts Dougie. Relax, mate! That's why she's here, remember? I know you want to do it all by yourself but you can't and I can't do enough. We have to split.

-Yeah, whatever...

-Tom! Fuck, don't go... we haven't even started yet!

I don't care. I get out of the practice room and go to the toilet. I don't want her to sing. Maybe I will be able to make abstraction of her on stage by looking at the crowd all the time but if I have to hear her... I might push her, make her fall face down in one of the man hole... I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror. Damn, I'm ugly... I have big black bags under my eyes, my hair are greasy. I should take a shower or, even better, sleep a little but I don't want to... I'm pissed off again. She pisses me off. I will fight for it, Danny. Don't worry, I'm not giving up on you... She won't sing your words. That's final.


	3. Chapter 3

Tom's POV

As I get in the house on that chilly morning, I can instantly smell some pretty good odors emanate from the kitchen. Thank God... the hospital food is just awful...

-It smells amazing, I'm starving... You...

When I turn the corner of the corridor, stepping in the kitchen, I grunt. Of course... She's cooking as well? Oh... good girl, I smirk sarcastically within myself. Just burn yourself, will ya, please? She turns around and the smile she had on her lips just disappears. What? Do I look that bad? I guess she just perfectly knows that it's not her place to be. I raise my eyebrow and she just turns the stove off. Just go the fuck away! I want to scream... so bad. I really don't know what restrains me actually but I just stare at her, standing there, right in the middle of our kitchen. My stomach growls and she looks down at her bare feet.

-You want some? she asks, not looking at me, pointing towards the cooking pan on the stove. It's just... uhm...

She sighs. Why the fuck does that girl always look so nervous? She remembers me of the first time we saw Doug do you remember, Danny? Except that she's not Dougie. No similarities here... Dougie is nice, generous and she's... she's a bitch... Yeah, I know, I almost never used that word before but her... that word suits her. Bitch. I can help but smile a little. She probably takes that as an encouragement because she seems less tensed all of a sudden.

-Listen... she starts... About yesterday, and the lyrics...

-You're not signing his words, I cut her, making a step forward.

-I... I know... I...

-I... I... I imitate her, coming closer, forcing her to back up against the counter. What? What is your stupid little voice going to say? I... uhm... I...

She's looking at my left, at my hand on the counter next to her. And then she looks at the gap between us. And at the stove at my right. What? You scared now? Stupid cunt! She lifts her face to meet my eyes. We are almost the same height, I didn't notice how tall she was before. I wrinkle my eyes, resisting an intense urge to spit on her face. That would look so good on her! She open her mouth but finally just let it go, looking down again. I come closer to her, I can practically smell her fear...

-What? I scream. What? Say something!

-I was thinking you could sing his parts and Dougie could sing yours and I will do will Dougie's and what will be left of yours, she lets out almost too rapidly for me to get the words right.

I take a step back. What was that? She blurred that out like you fire a gun. I shake my head, this girl is just... fuck, I hate her! She looks nice, she smells nice, she might be able to play but shit... I can't help it, that girl is just waking up some hatred fibers in me.

-That's it? I asks in disbelief. That's all you have to say?

-I... what do you want me to say?

She had talk with a shaky breath and I can see her breasts go up and down very fast. She's fucking scared! Or unstable. I can feel tingles in my arms... like they are climbing through my veins and I realize suddenly that I'm breathing really fast as well. Is she stupid or what? She must be... She doesn't understand anything!

-You don't get it, do ya? I ask with a low tone. He wrote some of the words I'm signing... You will never ever put your fucking disgusting voice over those words, you hear me?

She takes a deep breath in and nods. Good... Now that this is clear...

-Hey! Smells good! says Harry, coming in the kitchen. What's going on?

-Nothing, she replies hastily, pushing me away a little. I made breakfast. Turkey bacon for your abs.

I hear Harry laugh from very far away, like he's miles away from this kitchen. I feel like I'm buried so deep in my head, I can't seem to be able to even focus on reality. But I can feel her fingers on my chest. It's burning, it bloody hurts! When she lowers her hand, turning around to give Harry a plate, she smiles at him and I look down at my shirt, almost surprise to see it's intact. I was expecting holes or something. It burned so much...

-Excuse me, she mumbles and bypasses me.

I hear her climb the stairs and then I hear the ladder go down. Less than 30 seconds later, I hear her jump on the floor, probably from the ladder and then the bathroom door closes. I so wish she could just drown in her bath or something...

Alex's POV

I am really trying here. Really. But he hates me. He doesn't talk to me, doesn't look at me. And I can only remember the time where, a couple of years ago, I realized that Tom Fletcher was the most amazing man on this planet. Where I saw that show at T4 on the beach, where he was standing in front of the crowd, alone in front of an immensity of people, signing to the air, his blonde locks all across his face, his right feet taping to the rhythm of Harry's drums. I've been a fan for way more than four years, since almost the beginning in fact, when I was just about twelve and needed something to keep me up from my mother's death. I found music, and I found McFly. And then, when I was just turning seventeen, after waiting hours to get close to the stage, alone (because I was the freak everywhere I went, it's not a new thing) and I saw him totally in the sounds, totally in sync with... with life... But now... Now that I have the chance to be close to him, to just play with the man I thought was the most awe-inspiring and talented person in the music industry, it appears that he hates me.

Fletch came by yesterday and told the guys they could announce the news on twitter or wherever they wanted to. And sure enough, it was all over the papers this morning. Before, I would have surf on Internet to see what was new. But now, I don't want to know. If the fans react like him, I don't know what I... I don't know how I will cope with this. I'm really trying, I swear! This is way harder than I thought it would be.

I take my guitar from the floor and look at Danny's chair, next to mine. This is not the McFly house. Not without him here. I can't even say his name... I always have flashes of interviews and performances they did, I can't close my eyes without seeing him there, alive and happy... I'm sure the whole world miss him. And Tom more than anybody... I don't even know him and I feel his loss. It's not McFly house, it's an haunted house with people who pretend to be alive. Me included, I guess. I look at the musics sheets I've been given and I sigh. I can play his lines. But I don't want to sing them. It's not right. I didn't thought I would have to literally take his place when I got hired. Who the hell do they think I am? I'm not... him. Nobody can't even be like him, no matter how hard they try. Like nobody could ever be like Tom Fletcher. Nobody.

Without thinking, I start to play a riff I have had in mind since the day I knew he had that accident. It was inspired by Tom actually, when I first saw his teary face through my own tears when he confirmed the news and pronounced the word coma on TV... The song turned out to be about me too, about him... lying there, so far away from the people that love him and it was named like it is because of Tom. I don't even know why I wrote that song actually but I can't keep it down, I always have to think about it, the lyrics, the melody... everything. Maybe it's the sadness of this house, or my own messed up me... I don't know.

I'm trying so hard to get out of Tom's sight. I'm trying to take less space but it never seems to be enough... So I hide here. In the practice room. Practicing, thinking... It's the only place I feel at ease in the house. Maybe because music is apparently the only thing we have in common...

-What is that? asks Tom, from the doorway, making me jump.

-Nothing, I reply, straightening up on my chair. Just... uhm... just a riff.

-Play it again, he orders.

I do so.

-Again.

And another time when he asks for it. I let my fingers slide on the cords, thinking that I shouldn't mess up my own melody... He will jump on me, telling me I'm worthless if he notices me messing up. But he makes me so nervous. He has absolutely no idea of how scared I am being here. And hopefully, he has no idea of how much I admired him. Admire, not admired. He's still him... He's just so sad... I wish I could help but, seriously, look at me, I cut myself, I make myself throw up just to feel the pain, just to feel the stress coming out of me, the infection that I am sliding outside my awful body... I'm in no position to help anybody, not even myself, let alone someone who doesn't give a shit about me and probably wishes me dead. Without even noticing it, I had stop playing and Tom is just staring at me from across the room. His eyes are so full of hate, I can't even stand his glare, he scares me. I never thought I would say this, but I am afraid of Tom.

-You wrote that? he asks.

-Yeah, but I...

-Don't. Don't write anything. You're not here for this. What do you expect? To become a star or something as pathetic as that? To be famous on his behalf?

He lets out a sharp laugh and I swallow. Of course not. I just want to make music. I didn't even expect to be chosen when I got to the audition, it was just another occasion to play...

-Haven't you read the papers? he smirks and I close my eyes.

I can only imagine what's in there. From outside, it probably seems like I'm invading some sacred space. I guess I am... That's why I feel so bad, I guess... And the papers are probably telling that I'm not good enough, that I'm just a stalker or something...

-I'm not the only one who doesn't want you here, says Tom, clutching his fingers around the door handle. They all say you should just quit... let it go and go away. And that you're a slut, a bitch and every denomination of those terms. Well, nothing that I haven't thought already.

-I just can't wait for... him to wake up, I whisper, playing absent-mindlessly with my guitar cords.

-Why the fuck do you care? Go away! Why don't you quit already? Hey, he shouts whilst I put my guitar down and get up, feeling an urge to throw up again. Why do you even care about Danny waking up?

-Because you won't be so sad when he does, I mumble, walking pass him, escaping one again.


	4. Chapter 4

Tom's POV

-Oh, hi Tom, says the nurse when I enter your room. Real good sunny day, isn't it?

I just smile to her, a really little smile but it's a smile... I take a look at your bed and at the machines and then at her. She's checking your chart, writing things down. I try to catch her eyes and this time, she turns all sad. I hate that face.

-Nothing new, she replies to my silent question. I'm sorry. He's not worse, which is supposed to be the way he's heading but instead, he hangs on to it. It's a good thing.

-A good thing will be for him to wake up, don't you think? I snap.

-I'm sorry. I'll be back in a couple of hours.

With that, she leaves the room and I sigh, glancing at all the chairs. I always prefer when I'm alone with you in here. I sit down to the one near your legs and I take your hand, as usual. Waiting, as usual.

-I miss you, I say out loud. I need you so bad... Especially now with... with her in the house. I don't know what to do, I'm failing, Danny, I'm failing...

I take a deep breath in, I've told myself I wouldn't cry today. So I won't. I'll try not to, but I'm just so tired... When I manage to go to bed, wanting to sleep, I hear her in the practice room, playing your notes, again and again... And again. Or that stupid riff... I just listen to her. I can't stand up and go there and shout at her. I want to, you have no idea how bad I want to! But... I'm so mad, I know I'll do something bad, I can feel it. She's just... I hate her so much that I don't know how far I will go...

-And I'm scared, I whisper to you again. Fletch came by yesterday. I got it bad, Danny... He yelled at me, you wouldn't believed it, he was red all over, even his fingers were almost purple, I'm sure... He doesn't understand, he doesn't get it at all... I just can't give up on you like that... Like if I'm going to say to that girl: alright, take Danny's vocals, stand where he stands, play what he plays and we are going to be an happy family... He screamed at me because we haven't manage to split the lines yet. I'm so sorry, Dan, I swear, I'm sorry, I couldn't stop it... He decided and the other two were alright with this! I don't want to hear her sing, I don't even want to ear her breathe near me... I don't remember ever being so pissed off in my life...

I squeeze your fingers again, letting my other hand rest on your lifeless thigh. I hate that blue fabric, it's just too... not enough... I don't know, it's just too raw, not pleasant to touch. Maybe I could bring you your bed cover, I'll ask the nurse later. Someone cut your fingernails since yesterday morning. First time in your life that you had long fingernails. I hate it, even your hands are not the same.

-I bet you won't like to see your hands like that when you wake up, heh? I smile weakly. Danny?

I swallow. Danny... please, do something... show me you're not giving up... Seeing your hair grow and the beard on your cheek is not enough... I want I real sign!

-I'm here, I sigh, sliding on the edge of the chair. I'll wait but... hurry up... Obviously, I'm not strong enough to protect everything. And she's getting deeper and deeper in... At least, the fans aren't so pleased with her being there, if you could see all the hatred tweets I got about her, you would be happy... She's not replacing you for good, I swear. She never could be good enough. She's just a girl... She has amazing fingers, she gives hell to that beauty of hers, that's just... fuck!

I swear loudly, brushing my hair with both my hands, leaning back on my uncomfortable plastic chair. Fuck! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, she plays alright but she doesn't have the right to do so... especially not in our house! And now she's going to sing your lines! I just can't believe it, I feel tears building up, like they are climbing from my toes to my stomach. They are stuck in my throat, I just can't breath.

-Please... wake up... Danny, just wake up! I plead, grabbing your hand again. How hard could it be! You're not bleeding from anywhere, they manage to put your bones into place, your brain is alright they say... So, what are you waiting for, please! I need you, I want you back with me, I can't deal with this alone... If you're awake, I won't have to, everything will be like it was before, you and me... and Dougie and Harry. Perfect, like before. You were always the strongest of the both of us, I wish I was just laying there instead of you, it would be so much easier...

I shake my head, eyes closed. The tears are climbing. I said I wouldn't cry, I won't. I'll try not to. But I'm so... fucked up. I don't want to leave this place, I don't want to go back, it's not our house anymore since I have to see her face everyday, and now hearing her sing? What are they thinking? They don't care, they just don't care...

-Why did you make me do this? Why, Danny, why did you ask for that? You could have ask for anything else... but not that... Wake up!

I scream, I scream at you. And again, and again. Since a nurse comes in. She touches my arm and I suddenly realize what I've just done. I'm sorry, please, believe me, I didn't want to scream. I'm sorry, it's so pathetic, I'm not good enough for this, I'm so sorry, I won't scream again. I promise! I'll wait, take your time, hang in there, just... don't slip, alright? I'm so sorry... I'll be there, I'll do what you asked from me and then you'll see I'm a good enough friend. And you'll wake up? Is it a deal, Danny?

Later that night, when I come back at our house, I meet Harry in the doorway. He's heading to Dora's place and Dougie is already out with another girl, I don't remember her name. I don't want to ask if... if she is out too, I really hope she is, I don't want to see anyone. But, surely, when I get in, I hear music, guitar... I sigh, climbing the stairs, I have to take a shower, I smell like an hospital plastic cup, it's always the same smell, I hate it. But, instead to go to the bathroom, I stop walking when I hear her voice. She's signing. Your... she's... I swallow... Just walk away, you don't have to listen to her. But I can't help it and I walk pass the practice room door. She's signing I'll be ok. How dare she sing something like that? It's not ok! How the fuck can she... I take a deep breath in, I knew it wasn't a good idea to follow her voice. She's up, near the mic, playing an acoustic guitar, one that I haven't seen before. And she sings our song. Remember when we wrote that one, that it was two songs at first? I can't believe she's... I take another deep breath... Just turn around, Tom, go take your shower... But I'm standing here, I can't move, the lump is just growing bigger and bigger.

When the song is over, she closes her eyes, I can hear her shaky breath from where I am. She strokes her hair, clutching them between her fingers whilst she puts her other hand on her mouth. She looks shaken. Good. You should. Now, I can turn around, take my shower. I'll try to hide my tears in the water.

Today is a awful day. It's been seven months since your accident. I never thought we would still be there waiting for you after all this time, waiting for you to come back to us. But here we are, all sat in your room. Well, Harry, Doug and me. Not her. If she ever touches foot in this place, I'm going to beat her to death with her guitar, I swear to God, I will. What? I've told you, you don't know her, she's just a right down bitch... I can practically hear your voice telling me to calm down. Your always laughing tone, patting my back when I freak out. I want to feel that reassured again. But I guess I'll have to wait for your voice to calm me down, right? Calm down now? I can't. Wake up and I'll calm down. Deal? Seems like we have a lot of deals hanging...

I can't chill out, not when Harry is by your side, talking about her.

-You would absolutely adore her, I'm sure, he smiles to you and I roll my eyes. She's cute. Ok, not cute. She looks really nice Doug, what do you think?

-Yeah, I guess, she has that sexyness that she doesn't know about.

-Cute, repeats Harry. Danny, you hear that? You love cute, right? Yeah, you do... she's tall and she has blonde hair and she can play, mate, you wouldn't believe it...

-I think he wouldn't care, I sigh angrily.

-Bah, who knows, shrugs Harry. It's the kind of girl Danny would hit on. Maybe it will motivate him to wake up.

-Or the other way around.

-Ah, shut up, Tom... If you want to bring the mood down, go elsewhere... He'll wake up. You'll wake up, eh mate? adds Harry, looking at Danny's face, a worried look on his features.

-Oh yeah, I will, keep talking to me about that girl, please, I say, imitating Danny's most childish tone.

Harry gets up, causing his chair to fall violently on the floor and Dougie to hastily jump between us two. Harry is leaning forward, like he wants to fight with me. It would do me some good. Just punch me, go on, punch me!

-What? Go on, muscle man! A jab right in my jaw, come on! Wuss!

-Tom, come on, pleads Dougie. Relax.

-What, relax? Danny doesn't want to hear about the slut you want to replace him with!

-Oh, like you know what he wants to hear now? smirks Harry.

-Surely not that!

-Ah fuck off, Fletcher. Cut it! You don't have the monopole of sadness here!

-For sure looks like it! I yell. I see you two go! Acting all nice and friendly with that cunt! Pretending she's not just a foolish idiot playing in a fucking stupid comedy that nobody believes in!

-Stop acting like a dick, Tom... says Dougie, looking exasperated. With us and with her. Stop calling her names, she doesn't deserve them. What is happening is not our fault. And it's definitely not hers!

-No, I know, it's mine! I scream some more before storming out.

I've had enough, I'm going home.

I arrive in the driveway of our house, pressing the brakes at the last second, millimeters away from the garage door. I look through my car window. I don't know how many times I've thought about crashing my car too over the last months. Just not to feel like I feel. I get out of my mini, regretting to lack have the strength to end this pain once and for all. Are you going to wake up someday? So I wouldn't have resisted in vain? Because, today, I feel like I'm wasting my time trying to keep myself alive...

I climb the stairs and here she is again... She's always there, always in the way. Go the fuck away of my sight! She obviously hadn't heard me because she doesn't turn around when I reach the top of the stairs. She would usually walk away with that stupid shy smile of hers... Trying to show me she's all cute and nice. But I don't buy it, if she was, she wouldn't be there. And. at once, I notice where she is exactly. She's in front of your door, less than a meter from it. And she doesn't move. For a long time, I just look. But when she lifts her hand, brushing the wood with her fingers, it wakes me up. In two steps, I'm next to her and I grab her wrist, making her gasp in surprise. I twist her wrist, pulling her closer, making her stumble and I see her bit her lip.

-Don't ever ever ever touch that door again or I'll hurt you! I hiss in front of her face.

I let it go of her arm without her even trying to free herself. I just want her far away, as far away as possible from me, from you, from here... I push her. Both hands on her shoulders, I push her. With force. All the hate that I have is in that push, I think... She goes backwards, if there wasn't for the wall behind to stop her, she would have fall on the floor for sure. But there is a wall only a couple of meters away so her body just slams into it because of the force of my push. With a loud bang that echoes in the empty house. She just bumps on the wall, her head slamming on the edge of our Beatles' frame. The sound reverberates in the house and the frame falls on the floor. She frowns, letting out a small whimper and her hand flows to the back of her head hastily. She looks at her fingers and then rests her hand on the back of her head again. I can still see her and hear her hit the wall. It was a really loud bash. My heart feels really tight, not good...

There is a silence, a painful and really deep silence. She looks at me, not moving, her hand still up. It doesn't even seems like she's breathing. She's just standing there, back on the wall, all tense, her small shoulders tight against her neck. She has fear in her eyes, I don't even need to look at her to feel it, like that other time in the kitchen. I want to say something, I know I shouldn't have pushed her but... but I... And she just stares a me, with her big blue eyes, big blue eyes wide like a doe's. Frightened and unsure. Like if I'm about to kill her.

Well, I guess I just did a little.


	5. Chapter 5

Alex's POV

I have a big bruise on the back of my head. But with aspirins, it doesn't hurt. I was tempted to avoid taking the pills just to remember the pain but I felt really dizzy and today is not a good day to feel dizzy. We have a photoshoot. And I'm praying that they won't ask me to wear a really short skirt or something. I got a little overboard lately, I have to let the lines heal so they won't scar. I can't cut on them now, not on the lower ones. But it's hard, I'm so stressed... And now, with what happened the other day, I'm just... I wasn't going to go in there, I swear, I was just practicing my lines and I got that rush... I felt so bad, I wanted to apologize or something... It's stupid, I know, but I... this is the first thing I thought to do. This was his house, his place... his home. And I'm invading it... Like in the song too close for comfort. And I'm way to close for Tom's sake.

I hear a knock on the floor and I know this is probably Harry or Dougie tapping on the ceiling of the corridor, asking me to go down. I don't want to take pictures or whatever. This is not my place. We won't promote anything... we are just playing the last album on a tour, that's all, there is not point in pretending that I have something to do with this. This is their genius work, their lyrics, their choice of songs... And taking pictures that will assuredly be featured in magazines and stuff is just... too much. Inappropriate. Am I the only one who thinks that this is not the way we should proceed? We should keep it quiet, not trying to make me a part of this... I'm not, I will never be. I know it. And Tom made that very clear.

Once on the location, I look around. The people talking, the lights, the instruments, the drapes. My heart is racing, I could so use my blade right now. I want it, I need it. I try to calm myself down but I can't, I don't want to do this. My breathing is too erratic, calm down, Alex... I look back at the door we used to get in there.

-You thinking about escaping or what? asks Tom next to me. Go on, it would be your brightest idea so far.

My hand instantly flies to my head. I remember the push, I remember the feeling. And the sound it made. But I remember mostly his eyes. His face. Like if, whilst doing it, I was able to see him crying. He's broken, trying to grieve. And I'm just in the way. I have only me to blame for this. I feel the bump with my fingers and I feel his eyes on me as I turn around to face him. We are with other people, he won't do anything to me, I know it. But I can't help to be scared anyway.

Where is my Tom? The Tom that, in my teenage romantic mind, I had felt in love with. The one with those amazingly chocolate brown eyes and that cute smile and even more cute little dimple on his cheek? The Tom Fletcher that was shy and was blushing all the time in the early years? The one who puts a hand over his mouth or his eyes when he's embarrass. But who can't stop smiling anyway? The one with those fat giggles, who was jumping around, showing love to everyone? Is that Tom gone? It looks like it. His eyes are just... he's fixing me, we are almost eye to eye and I can't... I can't get away. It's Tom Fletcher, I don't know how he feels, but I _feel _how he feels. And it's not pretty. I can't help him, I just wish... he would wake up. Finally. Bringing back the Tom I loved. Love.

I open my mouth, as usual, intending to say something but nothing comes out. I can't seem to be able to talk in his presence. At first, I thought it was because I was too impressed to actually have him in front of me, but I realized it's not the reason I can't seem to be able to manage a complete sentence when he's there. It's because he doesn't want me to talk. And it's painful, I won't lie. I look down and close my eyes, feeling his glare on me again, less than a meter away. When I finally look up, wishing that he will just let me go, his hand is up. Middle hair, between us. What was he intending to do with it?

-Alexis, sweetheart, calls Melissa from the other side of the room, I'll do your hair real quick, ok? Tom, you're next, come here, she adds, waving at us.

Tom's POV

I let my hand down and I look at Alex walking away. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I pushed you. That's what I wanted to say. But I couldn't say it. It's simple, it's supposed to be. But I can't say it. I'm still mad at her for being there, for acting so nice and all with everyone when all she want is interfere and touch what isn't hers. I sit down to the chair next to hers and I wait, looking in the mirror. I'll need loads of make-up... I look like crap. What are we doing this again? The fans aren't going to buy tour posters with her face on them. Are they even going to come and see us without Danny there? I doubt it, actually. I can't help but look at her in the mirror. So I'm the first to notice her flinch of pain when Melissa grabs her hair. I really hurt her the other time. I thought... I wasn't...

-What is that? asks Melissa, fumbling into her hair. When did that happened?

-What? demands Harry, approaching, pulling his shirt off, trying not to mess his hair in the process.

-You have a big swollen bulge at the back of your head, you know that?

-I know... I..., she stammers.

She looks at me in the mirror and we lock our eyes for a brief moment. I want to apologize again but I'm stuck there, in my chair, looking at her. And all I can manage to see, or to remember, are her big blue eyes staring at me, questions in them.

-I live in the attic, she manages to say, glancing back at Melissa. The roof is low, you know...

It's the weekend after that horrible photoshoot. I'm not even sure they will use it since we all looked like zombies and we were just so uncomfortable that there was probably an invisible pool of awkwardness on the floor... It was dripping from every move we were making, that was the worst day ever. I couldn't even look at Alex after that lie she told to Melissa. She actually lied for me. I still hate her but that was a really unexpected gesture. I thought she would just blur it all out and I would have gotten my arse kicked but she said nothing. That girl is... I don't know...

I come down the stairs and I smell things cooking. And I instantly ask myself if she is cooking again. Once on the first floor, I see her in the living room. Alone, looking out the window. I take a deep breath in, I should really say I'm sorry. I mean it, sort of. She shouldn't have touched that door. She shouldn't be here... But being violent it's not like me... I want her to go, to run away screaming, to feel how bad I feel because of her... But violence? It's too much, isn't? She looks up and her face drops when she acknowledges my presence. She doesn't like me much either apparently. I walk to her.

-I know, she says out of the blue.

I frown. What? What does she know? She had talked very softly and she runs her fingers through her blonde hair, looking outside again. Why does she say that?

-I know, she repeats, glancing at me sideways. Don't worry, it's alright.

She knew I wanted to say I was sorry. Why her eyes always seem to be able to read me? Like that other day when she didn't say nothing when I shoved her into the wall... She just waited, all scared and shaking. Like if she knew I wanted to yell, to cry, to punch something... And like she wanted to be there, the be the one receiving my pain right in the face... She seems to feel my weakness and I hate it. I'm a mess, I know it, what does she want from me? Am I not making a big step by not throwing her out of this house from the second floor window?

I get in my room whilst the guys are cooking diner. I used to do it but I can't seem to be able to focus enough to not burn it every freaking time now. It's a good thing actually, we won't be the only one who knows how to manage a stove when you'll come back, Danny. They learned quickly. Or they got bored of eating pastas every two meals.

-You didn't apologize, you know, says the voice of Danny next to me.

I jump about ten feet in the air, looking at my bed, at him. He's... It's... Ok, this is crazy but... No but, this is definitely insane. Danny is sitting on my bed, two meters away from me. Real. Real, real...

-OK, breathe, I say, rolling my eyes to myself. Breathe, Tom. It's all in your head.

-Of course it's in your head, idiot, cuts off the man on my bed, smiling.

Oh God. I missed his smile. You don't have facial expressions when you're in a coma... I've been staring at a blank face for the past seven months, it's just so amazing to see his face move again... And his voice... I've been longing for the real sound of it for so long... But it's not him. It in the hospital, it's not really him... It's not my friend. It's... I don't know! I slowly walk back to my bed and I sit down.

-Let's pretend that I am not crazy and that I am not talking to a ghost...

-I'm not a ghost, I'm not dead, Tom. Stop acting like I am.

-I'm trying, I sigh, not believing I'm actually having a chat with... Danny. Really trying. This is crazy...

-Start by not being such a jerk, alright? smiles Danny again. You should have apologize to that girl. She's trying too...

-She said it was alright, I don't have to apolo..

-Moron! interrupts Danny again. You taught me to be a man, not a kid! What you did was not nice. So you make up for it, it's simple. Plus, he adds, looking away from me for the first time, glancing towards the window, we need her.

-I know: make music, no matter what...

-No, not for that. We need her for something else.

-For what? I ask, unsure, not licking the serious tone he's having. Danny? I call when I realize that he just disappeared in the blink of an eye. Danny? Danny!

I end up yelling his name quite a few times... Yelling very loudly apparently because my door suddenly burst open and Harry, Dougie and even Alex are standing in my room, a frightened look on their faces.

-What? asks Harry with a panic-stricken voice. Did you had a phone call? What is happening? Tom?

-Calm down, I say, taking a deep breath and raising my hands. I... I just... I had a nightmare. That's all. I'm sorry I shouted. It's nothing.

-Sorry, mate, softly smiles Dougie next to me and he touches my shoulder. A nightmare about what?

About what? I don't know, I didn't have a nightmare and I've never been a good liar... Or was it a dream? I'm still on my bed, sitting on the edge. I was awake. It was so vivid, I should have try to touch him or something... I lift my eyes and meet Alex's. She's still standing in the doorframe, like she doesn't want to go in my room really, and she bits her lips, probably feeling awkward because of my staring. I need to stop looking at her so intensely. But I can't. Your words are floating in my head, Danny. We need her? And not for music? But for what then, Danny? And you said that I had to apologize. I'm about to do so but she seems to feel it again because she shakes her head and I close my mouth, frowning. Why doesn't she want me to say it? Still keeping eye contact with me, she moves her chin slightly to the left and then to the right. Ah, yeah, the other guys. She doesn't want the other guys to know. And to ask why I'm apologizing. She finally lowers her eyes, turns around, and I look at my feet.

-What was that? demands Harry. Don't get me wrong, it was nice to see you act almost like a human being with her but... It was like you two talked without talking, you know...

I shrug, getting up. I know, it's weird. It's like I can see what she's thinking. Or maybe she was just telling me to shut up and keep my shit hole close for once. Probably more accurate. I need to sleep...


	6. Chapter 6

Alex's POV

I unbutton my shorts and slip them down a little, to my knees. I'm so tired, so so tired... I practice all day, my mind getting off during those hours I play guitar and then rushing like crazy at night, making me see things, making me feel things. And I wake up alone in the attic, eyes on the dark wood, looking at all the boxes stacked up against the low walls of it. Wondering endlessly what's in them, but never finding the courage to get up and open them. It would feel like spying. And I already feel guilty enough... I just wish I could forget where I am, sometimes I even wish I could come back time and not go to this audition. Not because Tom hates me. Not because he hurt me... Just because I'm a coward. Such a wuss... I'm scared of being around him again, his eyes are piercing me, it makes me shiver each time I feel them on me. Somehow, he seems to feel my fear now, maybe since that night when I got a bit too far... When he pushed me, when I saw him screaming at me without pronouncing any word, it's like he saw me wanting the pain he was giving me... I didn't mind behind shoved, I just wanted him to feel better.

I turn on the water and rinse my blade, wetting it and pressing it between my thumb and two other fingers. I can actually feel my blood running in my veins. Those moments – the seconds before cutting – are always the most sensitive ones, I just feel everything. That's why the pain is so intense and so therapeutic, I guess. If you can call this another word that messy. I look at my hand holding the razor blade and I notice it shakes a little. Since when do I shake when I'm about to do this? It's been years, it's not like the first times when I felt bad and ashamed... I still feel ashamed but not for the same reasons. And especially not in this house, I don't feel ashamed of doing this, I feel ashamed of doing it _here. _My blood is still pumping hard in my veins and I look at my wrist. How many times have I press the blade there and stopped when I felt the pressure? How many times did I wake up during the night, run to the bathroom, motioned it to the start of my hand and dropped the blade, too scared to end it. Right there, on the floor of my apartment bathroom, just end it. But I never could do it. And every second after that, every single moment until that rush comes back again, I wonder why I didn't do it.

I look down at the skin of my thigh, my pale flesh full of little lines, not more than two inches long and thin and pink. It looks untidy now, the lines have never been straight or in a perfect parallel order, it's just all over the place... Skin is rough, the blade slides where he wants... I press the blade on me, I push on the skin, I press hard. And it goes in, the sharp pinch shakes my body, makes me shiver but I press again. Slide, push forward. I swallow my saliva, it hurts. It burns, it vibes, Yeah, it vibes, like it's alive under my touch. That's one thing I like about it, the impression of not being alone, feeling my own self respond. I slide the blade again, looking at the skin when it curves under the pressure, slipping open slightly. I lift the blade, eyes closed and I try to breath slowly. But it's nearly impossible. As much I want to do this, my body knows that I am not supposed to. My heart is buffeting. And I am so tired... So exhausted... So I do it again. On the same cut, it's more painful that way So painful... tears climbs at once under my eyelids and I clench my eyes shut, making a tear fall down on my cheek.

I don't know why but it reminds me of a dream I had a few days ago, and two days ago and again last night. I saw him... Him. Next to me on the chair in the practice room, his leg against mine. I was playing my riff again, taking notes on my already full of black ideas music sheet, full of the lyrics of my song and cords to play. And he just... appears. On his chair, his black and used guitar on his lap. His fingers flew on the cords. It was Not Alone, I recognized it in the second. I listened to that song over and over again during months after it came out. I looked at... him and he smiled. And he whispered something in my ear. And I woke up. Three times the same dream. Always the same words coming at me, from his mouth to my ear, awful words but somehow full of wisdom and peace.

I finally opens my eyes and I drop the blade on the floor, feeling my heart skip a bit when I feel vomit blubbing in my stomach. I only have time to kneel before the toilet and it all comes out. I throw up, I don't even have to force it, it just comes out. Once it's over, a hand on the cold floor, I breathe in deeply. And then out.

-Who's in there?

Knocks on the door. I close my eyes a second but there is another knock and Tom is right on the other side of the door. Knocking. Knocking. Knocking. My head is pounding... Knocking again. Knock Knock. Knock.

-Stop! I yell. Please stop...

-Alex? asks Tom's voice again.

I take a deep breath in, advising my disgusting mess in the toilet. Fuck, I have to get out, I have to clean everything. And quick. Still on my knees, I grab toilet tissues and whip my mouth, take the blade from the floor and clean the tiles from all the little, tiny, almost invisible droplets of blood that are there. I toss the paper in the toilet and flush it, getting up. I hastily open the pharmacy and take hold of the box of bandages. Quick. I flip it open and...

-Alex? You... uhm... you alright?

I jump, dropping the box, hearing him turning the doorhandle. It's locked. It's locked. I lift my shorts hastily and grab the blade on the toilet counter. I have to get out of here. I open the door to a frowning Tom.

-Sorry, I mumble, walking pass him and reaching the ladder, escaping in my room.

When I reach safer ground, I realize I had stop breathing – literally - when I heard him touch the toilet door. I don't him want to know, I don't want him to see. But my heart feels really tight right now, I feel sick again. I'm sure he heard me puke. I sit down heavily on my bed, hands flat on my thighs but my right one slips. I look down. He saw that for sure, he couldn't have miss that... I didn't clean myself, I cut twice, and deep. To feel more and more and more. He saw that for sure. There is blood sticking on my short, three previously perfect lines of it descending all the way to my knees, the blood too red on my white skin. He saw that, Tom saw that. And now, it's everywhere, I have blood on my hands.

Tom's POV

I watch her storm out of the bathroom and climb the ladder. What's up now? Was she just sick at the moment? I walk in the room and wrinkle my nose. Smells awful in there. Yeah, she was really puking. I advise the box of bandages in the sink, the open pharmacy door and the little red rectangular outline on the counter. I look a bit closer, this is blood, isn't it? I look behind me. What the fuck? I grab the box and go under the trap of the attic, hesitating. Why do I even care? I don't care! I know what you would say, Danny, I need to say I'm sorry... I know, I know, but... fuck, you're wrong. We don't need her. For anything. And now this? What is _this _exactly anyway? I'm about to turn around but I hear a gasp coming from the hole in the ceiling. I roll my eyes. I definitely don't need this.

I climb the wooden ladder, pocking my head in the trap. And you wouldn't believe it, Danny, I almost forget where I am for a second. She is sitting on her bed, not that far away from me and it seems like she's just trying to breathe. Or sobbing, I don't know... Her lips are shaking, her eyes are closed and her mouth is slightly open. A tear fall on her left cheek and she exhales slowly, like if she wanted to blow some candles or something. And I, on the third step, with that freakin' box of bandages in my hand, I could just watch, as usual. I can feel her pain, it's like it's bringing me towards her. That's why I can't never walk away from her? Is that what you meant when you talked to me? I don't need this, Danny, you're so wrong! I don't need her pain, she just has to go screw herself, why in the hell do I even stay there and look at that despair?

Suddenly, she turns her head to her left and her eyes widens. What? There is nothing there. And she closes her eyes again, it's like she's listening to something. I look around, I can't see anything or hear anything. That girl is just right down weird. End of story. I will go down that ladder, go take a pee and go see you in the hospital. But I can't anymore. Not when I see her glancing at her right hand and it's reddish. On the palm, there is like a... on her thigh too, that was... it's... uhm... I swallow painfully and she lifts her eyes, meeting mine, only my head visible. She seems to shriek silently. Yeah, shriek, right underneath my eyes. I climb in the attic and she gets up hastily, not leaving my eyes.

She looks so scared... I've never seen so much fear in my life, I swear, it's just breathtaking. I detail her whilst she's standing there, not moving. Her short is unbutton, the white fabric has red spots on it. And there is blood on her leg, almost all the way down to her knee. She's looking at it too and back at her hand. I feel my heart beating fast in my chest. It's like it's collapsing on my ribcage. Why? Why does she always have to make me feel like this? I see the little metal thing on the floor and I instantly know that it is. I drop the box of bandages. Why can't I never get away from her? Especially now, with all that mess she has on her, I should just jump down and go the fuck away. But her own fear is hitting me, like if I had crashed into a wall! And it pissed me off so much! Is that why I need her? To feel so angry? How amazing is that? Genius idea, Danny, just perfect! I don't understand!

-Why? I finally let out. Why? Tell me why!

She remains silent, looking down at her hand. Somehow she knows I'm not only talking about the blood. I'm talking about her being here, about that blood, sure, but I'm talking about you too. Why? Why in the Hell did it had to be you? As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I feel guilt and anger rushing in again. I am a monster. I am really not... I don't want anything to happen to Dougie or Harry, that's not what I meant... I'm just... tired. I hear her breathe in front of me and I just can't help it, I just can't...

-Tell me why, I hiss, grabbing her arm, or I swear I'll...

I don't finish my sentence, I let go of her arm and fumble down to reach her shorts. I push them down. I'm not thinking, OK, I'm just not. I press her shoulder roughly so she ends up falling back on her bed and I grab her hands, bringing them up to her head and hold her down forcefully in the mattress. She doesn't move, she doesn't defend herself, she just looks scared. Like always. But I don't care. I need some relief, I need her to feel how bad she makes _me _feel, how much of a fucking mess I am because of her. And because of you too. I hold her with one hand and undo my belt with the other, opening my jeans and pressing myself down on her. Pressing my hand on her hip, reaching for the skin underneath her shirt. That's when she talks, moving her hands under mine a little.

-Don't, she whispers. You'll feel awful when... after. Please, don't, she pleads, eyes closed.

After? What after? This is never going to end! There is no after! Doesn't she get it? I look at her face and I feel the skin of her legs against mine. I was just going to... I wasn't... Fuck yeah, I was. I wanted to rip her apart. She wants to bleed, I'll make her bleed! But I... I sigh. I let go of her hands and get up. Totally against my will, against my anger, I get up, I let her go. She remains put though, on her back, in her underwear, and now I see it all. I see the fear and the pain. And I see the nightmares and the tears. And the anger too. And the loneliness and... and... And everything. It's all written there on her skin. On her thighs where dozens of scars and cuts are drawn. I take a step back suddenly, it's like I'm pushed backwards.

-Why?

I yell. And I yell again. I walk into the room, brushing the top of her nightstand, sending the lamp crashing on the floor with some clatter. And then I do the same with her chest of drawers and pull a drawer so hard it hits me in the stomach. But I don't care, I can't even see correctly. Why? Why you? Why her? Why here? Why... this? Why all of this shit? I drop the drawer, it falls on the floor with a loud bang and bumps onto some boxes, making one fall on top of it. I grab the box and throw it across the room. And take another one. And a third one. I throw it at her. She's the reason I'm like this. She's there because of you! Because of me. The box bursts open when it hits the floor of the attic, all the albums, movies and pictures in there flying all around the room. As I'm about to take another box, she whispers again and I manage to hear it. I always hear her.

-Tom... Please stop...

Her voice is calm. Way too calm. She's a crazy stupid innocent bitch! You are so wrong, Danny, so, so wrong... There is no need for that kind of person in our house. I look up and I remark that she's absorbed in something on the floor and I stretch my neck to see what it is. It's a picture of me and you. You're laughing I think, and I'm just smiling. I have my acoustic guitar on my lap and you're pointing at something outside the frame of the picture, a guitar pic in between your fingers. It was about four years ago, I remember that day... Do you? Next to the picture, there is the box of bandages I threw earlier and less than two centimeters away, there is another object, all three thing in a line: the picture, the bandages and the blade.


	7. Chapter 7

Alex's POV

Tom walks towards me and, instantly I takes a step back. He looks hurt but what does he expect? I try to let him be but he scares me to death... And that moment on my bed, minutes ago... I can't help but look down at his still unbuttoned pants and he follows my eyes. He takes a step back himself, likes he's shock or something, like he just realized what could have happened... If he had done it, there would have been no way for me to save him... He buckles his belt, spreading his arm open when he takes another step forward. He's calmer now, I can see. I look at my leg, I need to clean myself up. Tom bends over, takings the picture, the blade and the little box, which he handles to me. Like a peace gift. But I should be the one giving him the patches, I should be the one to heal him, that's what... he said in my dream. Tom looks down at the picture, sitting on my bed.

I turn my face to the corner of my room and there he is, he never left since that moment he talked to be, before Tom came up here. He's standing near the window and I think I can see right through him. What is he? He said he wasn't a ghost but it surely looks like he is. He holds up a hand, pointing the bed, smiling softly, like every time I saw him before. I sit down too, looking back at Tom, inches from me. He glances at me and he brushes my knee with his fingers. I nod. I know he's sorry, I know he doesn't want to be such a mess and I know I'm not the one making him mad like that. I look at the corner of my room again. He's still there. Tom follows my glare and he frowns, glancing forward and back from the window to me. I sigh, advising his hand still on my knee and I open the patches' box. I know there is some disinfecting things in there, I remember. And Tom has blood on his hand, probably from when he held me earlier. I open the little envelope and take his hand, cleaning it. This is the first time I touch him and not the opposite. And his skin is so soft... I'm shaking. Or he's shaking, I don't know.

Tom is staring at the picture and has the blade in the same hand. When I let go of him, ripping open another packet to clean my hands, he observes me. I clean my leg as well and, when I reach the cut, I can't help but shiver a bit, it burns. And it starts bleeding again a little so I press a bandage on it, feeling the tingles running in my thigh. I didn't ask for them this time, I feel enough pain right now as it is. I glance back at the window, he's still there. I've been seeing him here and there for days now, I'm at the point where I just don't question it anymore. I'm as messed up as that, I accept my hallucinations...

-Why? asks Tom, touching my scars with his fingertips. Why do you do that to yourself?

I shrug. I don't know why, if there was a reason that could explain it, I probably wouldn't do it. There is just this hole... You can't put words on this feeling. Tom is playing with the blade, turning it between his fingers like I've seen him do loads of times with a guitar pick. He's waiting for an answer.

-I just... I don't know, I just hate myself...

He hastily turns his head towards me. I'm scared again now, the hatred is back in his eyes, I don't like it at all, he was nice just a moment ago! He takes the blade between two fingers and the picture falls on the floor. He presses the blade on his naked forearm.

-I also hate myself, does this mean I should cut? Right there?

-No! I say. Don't...

-What? he asks angrily, getting up and picking back the picture of him and... him, in happier times. I'm as fucked up as you are and you know it, what makes it alright for you to do that?

-You're not fucked up...

-How can you say that? he shouts, pointing a finger at me when I get up too. I could have raped you! Right there! That's not being fucked up?

-You didn't do it, I say looking at the floor, at our feet. You could have but you stopped... I could have leave before but I didn't. He... He could have died but... but he didn't.

I hear the slap on my face before feeling it. I stumble a little, just a little. I didn't want to say that but he... he said to me that I should told Tom that he's still alive. He... feels like Tom has given up on him already. I hear Tom sigh and I look back. He's still there, but he doesn't smile anymore. His eyes are on the blade in Tom's hand.

-You can't blame yourself for this, I say softly.

Tom looks up and we stare at each other for a long, long time. My cheek burns. His eyes are so sad... I want Tom back, the one I knew from far away, from the magazines and the TV appearances. The one who was happy and at peace with his three friends. Not the Tom standing in front of him, looking like he's going to cry. I know what I have to do. And I'll do it.

-And hating yourself is not enough... I hate myself... and _you_ hate me... So... I win, I whisper, taking the blade back from his hand.

He stares back at me again and, after a long moment, he turns around and gets down the ladder with the picture, taking a last look at me, standing there almost alone in my room. When I can't see him no more, I toss the metallic piece in my nightstand drawer and I take out the music sheets. I fell an urge to work on them.

-Is it done? asks a voice behind me.

I freeze, looking down at the lyrics. I nod negatively when I feel him sit down on my bed, right where Tom was moments ago. He leans forward and whispers the same words as usual in my ear. I nod again, I know.

-Finish your song before, he says again, louder.

-It's his song too, I mumble. And yours as well.

-I know. Finish it and wait for him to say it... Then...

-I know, I say.

Tom's POV

-I'm sorry I didn't come yesterday, I mumble to you, playing with the covers of your bed. But I... after what happened with Alex, I just... I didn't have the strength to drive and not jump off the bridge. You didn't know what I almost done... If you knew, you wouldn't never want to wake up again...

-I saw it, says your voice, less than a meter from me.

-Bloody Hell! I curse, hiding my face with my hands.

I look at you laying there and then at your body standing next to me. Again? I'm such a mess, I see you everywhere... I breathe in deeply, closing my eyes but you're still there when I open them again. Your blue eyes are piercing me. Like Alex's.

-You need to say you're sorry, you speak softly.

I peek at the monitors. Nothing changes, always those beeps and those wires... I just... I just don't understand. You can't be there and here... And still, you're not alive, wherever you stand, aren't you?

-Will you say you're sorry?

-What is it with you and apologies? I finally let out in a whisper.

-That's essential...

-For what?

-You'll see, you reply, walking on the other side of your bed and brushing a crease on the blue covers.

-Yesterday... I was...

-Mad.

-More than that... I sigh, sitting down. I wanted her... really... and she was just... I think this is just the wrong time and the wrong place and I'm pissed and she has issues...

-Loads...

-But there is something with her that I don't understand... I always seem to feel more when she's there. She's just a girl...

-She's not, you say, hands on the bed, leaning over your sleeping body. You know she's not. You need her, I need her.

-But for what? You didn't say it last time...

-I know...

-Danny? Come on, please...

-Just apologize...

And you go again, leaving me and... and your body alone. I miss you... I want to talk to you again, even though all you say doesn't make any sense to me, even though I feel even worse after you leave, come back...

I rest my head on the bed and I think I fall asleep. When I wake up, there is a little less light in the room, the sun is setting down... Where do you go when you leave me? What are you?

-Danny, I say, taking you still hand, please come back to me... I'll apologize, I promise. Is that what you need from me? And you say you need Alex. But why? To play? Because I'll do it. I'll say I'm sorry. And I'll let her play your songs without saying a word. I'll apologize and you will be alright the next time you come talk to me... I want... it's only been like a few hours and I want to hear it again. You voice... I miss it. I found... I came across an old picture of us yesterday... Will it ever be possible to hear you laugh again? Everybody say you'll wake up but... seven months is so long... Danny, it's so long...

When I come home, it's empty, there is a note on the counter: Harry is at Dora's, Dougie at his mum's and Alex is out with Fletch to sign some papers. I climb the ladder and, without looking around Alex's room, I bring the boxes downstairs. I am tempted to look for the blade but I have the feeling that she has tons of them anyway and that she will panic if she sees one missing, thinking I want to cut myself with it or something...

I grab the vodka bottle from the freezer and push one of our old videos in the VHS. I fumble through the pictures, I try to feel each moment, I look at other videos, watch old performances we did. Anything to make me feel closer to you. And I take shoot after shoot, it helps me believe that I actually am getting closer to you. After a while, I hear a breathing behind me and I jump, without thinking, grabbing someone by the throat. It's Alex. Of course it's her... it's always her! She puts her hand on my arm whilst I keep my grip tight on her neck. She has tears on her cheeks. She misses you too, I can tell. I'm battling with my mind, this is crazy... I want to let go but I can't seem to be able to... I finally open my hand, stretching my fingers fully, afraid they will curve again and grab her again. I look hastily at the stairs and she seems to understand because she heads upstairs. I really need to apologize. But now... I too drunk, I think... Or uncontrollable, I don't want to hurt her again, it's enough.

I lay back on the couch, putting in another VHS and grab the vodka bottle. And I think I black out.


	8. Chapter 8

Tom's POV

When I wake up, I'm laying on the living room couch and I have a blanket on me. I try to sit up, pushing it away but I grunt, laying down again. Fuck... I have a tornado inside my head... I don't even remember getting that thing I have on me. I straighten up ever so slowly and I see the glass of water and the aspirins on the table. Alex...

I sigh. After all this, after all I did to her, she still is... she still... I don't know. I hear the front door open and close and I turn around. A bit too fast, I feel like I'm going to puke but I just close my eyes, waiting for the feeling to go away.

-Woah, mate, chuckles Dougie. You look like shit...

-Keep your tone down, please, I moan, rubbing my forehead.

-You had a little party with yourself or what? he asks, sitting down on the other couch, looking at the empty vodka bottle and at the boxes all around the living room.

-With Danny actually.

-Tom...

-Was sad... But I... it was OK. You guys should look at this stuff. It's from the early days...

-Why do I... starts Dougie.

-What? I frown, getting up slowly after taking two – make that three – aspirins. Why do you what?

-I don't know... Why do I have the feeling that you're calm... more calm... I don't know...

The front door opens again and this time, it's Harry. He smiles softly at us. Since our fight, we don't talk much... Maybe it's because I'm still drunk a little or because that night with you, watching the old you laugh and push me around made me feel better or because I realized that Alex is there for me... I... I feel better. Less tense. I guess, I hope so... And I know I've been a wreck and that they are as hurt as me by your accident. Can they see you sometimes too? Can they talk to you like I do? I kind of wish they can... Even though I don't always understand what you say, just hearing your voice is... it's just... amazing... I try to smile to Harry. I need to apologize to him. And to Dougie too. But, before, I need to say I'm sorry to her.

Alex's POV

I'm just getting down the ladder to walk downstairs and I see Tom coming up. He's looking at his feet and when he sees me, he moves his lips a bit. I can almost see the shadow of his old smile floating on them.

I feel Tom take my hand and I close my eyes. He will say it, I know he will, he will say it soon. I didn't sleep at all last night, I finished the song. And I wrote a note. This is the end then... That's how it feels...

-I'm sorry, he whispers. I'm so... so sorry... I know you probably don't believe me but...

-I believe you, I cut him.

He stares at me for a moment and his brown eyes are just too intense for me. I want to say it, I want to tell him what is going to happen, but I know I can't. He told me to say nothing. I look around, searching for him but he's nowhere to be seen. I haven't seen him since two days ago. He's waiting, I know he is...

-What are you looking for, asks Tom, trying to follow my eyes.

-Him... I've been... I sigh, touching Tom's arm. I've been seeing him... It's not real but...

-He talks to me sometimes, he shrugs. It's not real either but it feels kind of good...

-Yeah... I wish I knew him...

-You will, he'll wake up... someday.

His eyes are sad now... He tries so hard to believe that he will wake up, that it will be all over. And I know now that it's not because he wants me gone that he wishes so bad that he would wake up soon... They are just... connected. Like I've been connected to his pain, I guess... It's like a broken mirror, I see myself in him, all the bad things in me, I see them in him. But I know he has good things in him too... but those good things are laying in an hospital bed... The bad things need to go for the good things to be back...

-He... I wish I could meet... him, but I...

-Why aren't you saying his name, Tom says. I never heard you say Danny's name...

-I knew you didn't want me to, I whisper, looking at my feet.

-Say it...

I close my eyes. That's what I've been waiting for. That what he was supposed to say. That's what he told me to wait for... So I do as he asked me. I say it, I say his name.

-Danny...

I close my eyes. I wasn't even able to think about his name... And now saying it, it feels like I'm relieved. This is really the end then... And I'm OK with it. Tom's eyes are closed too. Maybe he's seeing something right now. Or talking to Danny in his head. I don't know but... I just don't know. I take a little folded envelope from the back pocket of my jeans and I press it on his chest.

-It's for you, I say. Don't open it. Not now. Later, tomorrow... just... later, OK?

Tom nods and he frowns a little but I try to smile at him.

-And go see Danny now. He misses you.

*THIS IS HARSH... SO DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T FEEL CONFORTABLE... JUST GO TO THE TOM'S POV PART ...*

Alex's POV

I open Tom's bedroom door and I leave my guitar on his bed, along with my music sheets. And I walk out, brushing Danny's door with my fingers. I take a cab and it droves me to my old apartment. I knew it was just a question of time before I came back in here. It was sooner than I thought it would be but still... My loan is not even over yet... I've been waiting for the courage to do this for years... And now I have it. I lock the door and go to the bathroom. I take a blade out of the little cabinet, I have too much of those things. I turn on the bath taps, the water is slowly climbing... I turn them off, looking at the translucent water. I'll do it now. I fumble into my pharmacy, take out the aspirin bottle. There is so many thing in this... pain killers, and stuff like that. I take it all, until my throat doesn't want to let anything in anymore. I can't throw up...

I don't want to miss anything. I won't miss anything. I lay down on the floor, the tiles are cold against my bare arms. I'm over with everything. I just hope Danny wakes up soon after this. They all deserve to live... a long and full life, a beautiful and amazing life. Together. I bring my arms on top of me and I pray that it won't be too long. I don't want the pain to subside... I've had enough of it. And I'm not doing this to feel the pain. Not now. I have to go deep, I don't want to have to cut again and again and again. So I hold on thigh to the little blade and I press it on my wrist. And I slide down. Fast. And the blood comes down instantly, even before my eyes clench shut and that I drop the blade. It fall on the tiling floor with a little metallic sound.

I can't even put words on the feeling. It's not even pain... well, yes, but... it's beyond that... I can't feel my heart beating, it's like a constant ringing in my ears... I finally find the strength to open my eyes and I look at my right arm. It's bleeding. Heavily. But not enough. It needs to be deeper, right? I don't want this to take forever... I rummage on the floor to find the blade, grab it. Deeper, Alex... Deeper. I turn on my stomach, trying to support myself with my unharmed arm. The cut is making a mess. I switch the blade from my left hand my my right, my fingers are shaking. Come on, it's almost done... And I press on the skin, with all my weight, I press down. And I think I scream, I'll never know. I don't know how I find the power to lift my arms, come on my knees... I ear something fall on the floor, bits by bits and I know that it's me... slowly fading away, descending from my wrists to my elbow and falling on the tiles... I'm going to pass out, I feel so dizzy, the ringing is louder and I'm still on my knees... I lift my arms and I let them slide in the bath water. The blood can't coagulate, it can't stop, it needs to pour out of me. All of it. I close my eyes. I hope it works...

Tom's POV

I look up at the guys, Dougie's at the feet of your bed, his hand on your ankle and his head on his arm. He talked to you a lot earlier, he's been watching the videos... That was really a good thing to do. I feel hope. Not a lot, but still... it's better than not having any. Harry is babbling next to your head but I don't care... He can talk all he wants, the sound distracts me from the thought of Alex. She looked so serene... too tranquil? I don't know. And the things she said... I feel the envelope in my trousers. It's later now, right? I get it out and I rip the paper open. I want to read what Alex has to say.

_If someone can understand what it going to happen, it's you... I hope he was right, the Danny I've been seeing... I hope it works. I don't know if you'll read this tomorrow or in a week, I don't even know it you will want to read it but it's my goodbye to you. I will never be completely sane and at peace, you know it, I know it. Danny is... he's waiting for me. And it's OK, I'm perfectly fine with this, I swear._

_But I want to ask you something. Never stop playing, like you did for Danny, promise me you'll never stop making music. The world will be a better place with your sound in it. And the guilt... don't feel it. There is no need for guilt or regrets. No guilt, no regrets, no apologies needed now. Just music... always. There is a song I wrote for you. For us two I guess, because we are both feeling like we need to hang on to something and that we can't reach reality, am I right? And, I don't know for Danny, but I imagined him in this ''in between'' place, wanting to grab you, wanting for you to help him go down to you all... If all this is true, if all turns out like it should, he would be down with you and you will have something to hold on to. I hope so. You know how this works, don't you? The song is on my guitar. It's in your room. Take care of my guitar..._

_I was never completely alive... and Danny was never really dead either. I need to make things right, I need to go._

_You know why, right? A life for a life..._

I lift my eyes from the paper and it hits me. Alex... I'm about to say something out loud, to shout something, I don't know... but one of Danny's machine starts to beep and I get up. Harry is already near the bed, touching Danny's chest and Dougie takes my elbow when I approach. I rest my hand on his shoulder, smiling. I know what is happening. Danny's head moves a little. And then a bit more and he frowns, eyes still closed. Alex is dead. And Danny is waking up.


	9. Chapter 9

EPILOGUE

(song credits goes to Simple Plan)

Tom's POV

I sit on my stool and hold on tight to your guitar. I look up at the lights of the stage and I try to see faces in the crowd. But the spot on me is preventing me too. It's like I'm in a bubble of light. I can feel Danny's eyes on my back and I know that Dougie and Harry are right behind him, waiting for me to start. It feels so good being back here, I had missed the stage and I'm sure you would have loved it too, Alex. You would have stand tall in front of that immensity of people and play... play forever...

I understand what you did and I try to get over the reason you did it. I didn't say a word about this, they would think we are crazy but... maybe we are... But I understand... I think I do. I'm not mad, I'm not even sad. Well, I guess I am a little, but, unlike before, being sad doesn't make me mad. I wish you could have been here with the four of us but I know it wasn't possible. You were send to me, you were not meant to stay, I know now... You were there to help me get Danny back. And sometimes I wish it could have been different. I would have helped you with the monsters in your head, I wouldn't have been one of them... And you would have been be happy. With me, maybe.

I take a deep breath and I can hear it in the microphone. And I talk. I talk to the people in front of me. I say that this is the first time ever that I play this song to a crowd and that it's your song. The song you wrote for us, to save us...

I have to swallow a couple of times, I don't want to cry anymore. I don't need to. I have cried a lot over you, a lot... Danny was just recovering and I was near his bed and I was crying and he was just touching my hair. And I realized that you did all of this for this very moment... the moment where, finally, I would feel him react again, the moment I would talk to him and he would react. And I felt at peace suddenly.

I tell the crowd how kind you were. I tell them that I didn't knew at first that you were so amazing, that, like them, I didn't like you very much to say the least. That this is the song you wrote for me and for Danny. But that it's talking about you too. It's called Astronaut. And I say that I miss you. I miss you, Alex.

LINK FOR THE SONG:  watch?v=-U90iXvC7vU

Can anybody hear me?  
Am I talking to myself?  
My mind is running empty  
In the search for someone else  
Who doesn't look right through me.  
It's all just static in my head  
Can anybody tell me why I'm lonely like a satellite?

[Chorus]

Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut  
Sending SOS from this tiny box  
And I lost all signal when I lifted up  
Now I'm stuck out here and the world forgot  
Can I please come down, cause I'm tired of drifting round and round  
Can I please come down?

I'm deaf from all the silence  
Is it something that I've done?  
I know that there are millions  
I can't be the only one who's so disconnected  
It's so different in my head.  
Can anybody tell me why I'm lonely like a satellite?

Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut  
Sending SOS from this tiny box  
And I lost all signal when I lifted up  
Now I'm stuck out here and the world forgot  
Can I please come down, cause I'm tired of drifting round and round  
Can I please come down?

Now I lie awake and scream in a zero gravity  
And it's starting to weigh down on me.  
Let's abort this mission now  
Can I please come down?

So tonight I'm calling all astronauts  
Calling lonely people that the world forgot  
If you hear my voice come pick me up  
Are you out there?  
Cause you're all I've got!

Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut  
Sending SOS from this tiny box  
And I lost all signal when I lifted up  
Now I'm stuck out here and the world forgot

Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut  
Sending SOS from this tiny box  
To the lonely people that the world forgot  
Are you out there?  
Cause you're all I've got!

Can I please come down?  
Cause I'm tired of drifting round and round.  
Can I please come down?

Can I please come down?  
Cause I'm tired of drifting round and round.  
Can I please come down?

Can I please come down?  
Cause I'm tired of drifting round and round.  
Can I please come down?


End file.
